Thursday, November 29, 2012

We used the same technique to cross as before, but this time,
Dickerson led the way. He cautiously poked at each hold. The others
did not need to be told what to do, and neither did I. We did exactly
what he did, and we tried to follow the exact path. I was the second
last to step on the other side.

The big paladin took his rope out from under the rock, and we
pulled our end under a rock on our side. Every time he made progress,
we pulled in the slack, and anchored it.

We took another breather, before carrying on. We hiked for another
half hour, which seemed uneventful. There were no tracks; no signs of
anything. My heart sank. The danger was significant, but what
bothered me the most is that we didn't do it properly from the
beginning, and it was all because of me.

Half an hour later, the sun had set. There was still light, but it
was getting very dark. We had small flash lights, but they would be
worthless.

We sat down, and drank the remainder of our canteens. We also took
time to eat our only rations. The wind blew in our ears. Everybody
kept quiet and to himself.

Dickerson said, “Did you hear that?”

I cupped my ears, but all I could hear was wind. I waited a moment
more. I thought that I heard white noise. “Is that...water?”

“Yes!”

Hope. Desperation. At that moment, without saying anything, we
hoped that we could follow the creek out of the canyon. We all looked
through our binoculars.

Dickerson said, “I see a crack in the canyon floor!” He went
for a closer look. When he got there, he hollered in excitement.

We picked up our gear, and move onwards. Half an hour later, the
creek had swelled and deepened. We had reached an oasis. There was a
lush carpet of grass. It was not too hard to see, because it a full
moon shone down on us, and there was not a cloud in the sky.

My firing team partner said, “Oh, God. Thank you. Look! That's a
way out of the canyon.” He pointed to a gentle path that led to the
top of the western wall. We entered in on the west side, so that was
very serendipitous. All the others shouted for joy, and gave thanks.
I said a few words myself.

I pulled my book out to write.

I could see out of the corner of my eye Dickerson turning to
celebrate with me. When he recognized what I was doing, he buried his
face in his hands. “Wait...wait.”

I said, “It's not what you think.”

“You're not doing what...what you're doing. You are not
doing it.”

“You have to understand.”

“No, man. No. Don't. Don't. Please.”

I shook my head. I walked over to him. “Look. It's not what you
think. Think about this.”

“I did think about this. It you, who needs to think
about this.”

I shook my head. “Listen.”

“Oh, man!”

“Listen. Listen. When I did it the first time, I had fairly
genuine motives. I wanted to catch the guy. That's all. I also wanted
to give God the glory. I never meant any harm. I was tired. I was
forgetful, but I...and I made a mistake. I meant nothing by it. I've
learned my lesson.” He shook his head. I could tell that was trying
to ignore me. “Would you listen? The second time, he forced us
across. This was consistent with the first pull.”

“That was your fault. That was because of you,
not the mission!”

“Yes. You are right. I would never lie. I was tired, and I got
mixed up, but that's why the section has you. You are there to hold
me accountable. We got through it. The second pull is what forced us
over the hole, and we believe that it was to teach me a lesson,
and--”

“But why carry on?!”

“Because. Because maybe I didn't learn my lesson yet.”

“Oh, yes, you have. Come on. You're just saying that. You're
just saying that as an excuse to go on. You don't need to pull a
stone for that.”

“No! It's not like that. Yeah, I might have seen a while ago,
the consequences of my ways,” I said, and I gestured onwards, as I
said, “but who's to say that I have or don't have more consequences
of my ways?”

He pointed at me forcefully, and said, “That ridiculous!”

“It is? Who brought out the white stone?”

Dickerson pressed his lips upwards, and turned away. He pressed
his hands on his head. As he fell to his knees, he screamed.

I finished writing in my notepad. With great hesitation, I pulled
out a white stone. I showed it to the group. They simply sighed and
looked away.

I walked away a few steps for some privacy. Tears started flowing
down my cheeks, as I squatted and hugged my legs. I am confident that
I can speak on behalf of all of us, when I say that at no moment did
we fear for our lives. We trusted God for that. We just did not want
to do this anymore. That is all. We were exhausted. We were walking
uphill practically all day, carrying 20 lb packs, and 10 lb rifles
with ammunition, and we didn't bring any sleeping bags and tents.

If only I had turned back in the first few minutes, or if only I
had let Reed lead the way.

I didn't even know what to want anymore. Therefore, I did what I
knew best. I dropped my pack and rifle. After I shed the weight, my
shoulders felt so light. I walked down to the creek. I took off my
boots, and waded in. The moon glimmered in this babbling stream. I
felt around for smooth stones about the size of diner plate. Every
time I found one, I brought it up to the river bank to build an
altar. It was built like a log cabin, with four sides. I was sure to
bring out fresh stones, that were most probably untouched by human
hands. Some were rough. Some were smooth. As was the standard, I used
what I found. I also filled in any spaces in the altar with smaller
stones to stabilize the sides.

Normally, we were required to use pine needles for this specific
sacrifice, but I was sure that God would have made a small exception.
I grabbed handfuls of grass, and placed them in the middle of the
altar. I picked several branches of scrub brush, and placed them in a
pile beside the altar. When I went for more, I discovered clover,
which meant a change of plans for the better.

I was never a biologist, so I could never understand why clover
was growing in an oasis in a canyon in a desert. I live in a world of
miracles, so I just accept such things as relatively normal.

I cleared out the inside of the altar, and picked several handfuls
of clover, to fill the entire altar.

I poured my entire canteen on the branches and the clover. I
filled the canteen, and did it again.

I then faced the altar, with the creek on the other side, and
knelt down. I closed my eyes, and lifted my head and arms towards the
sky.

The sound of the creek, which was once white noise, had become a
beautiful sound. It felt like a gentle hymn that nature played to
accompany my humble attempt at penance and praise and thanksgiving.

I opened my eyes. The moon shone down on this beautiful moment.
making it more special than I deserved. The reflection shimmered in
the creek.

I looked down on the altar. Smoke started to appear. It rose to
the heavens, carrying the sweet savoury scent of the clover. As it
rose, I felt my burdens and pains lifted away.

I then placed handfuls of the wet branches in the altar. A few
moments later, a tiny orange light appeared in the night sky. It
grew. It came closer. It was a thin column of fire. As it grew
longer, it bent in the shape of an arc. About a minute later, it
finally landed on the wet branches. It kept burning for about another
half minute. It then disappeared, leaving my branches burning in the
midst of the altar.

I let my arms down for the first time since I started praying. I
felt my soul being replenished. Peace overcame me, and visions filled
my mind. It was a peace that I could not understand. Ever since I
heard about this canyon, I felt as if it were an obstacle that could
be easily walked through or a challenge to be overcome to get what I
wanted. When I first pulled a stone, it became a prison, although I
never realized it at the time. Now it seemed as if it were a
sanctuary and a source of protection.

At last, for the first time since waking up this morning, I was
at one with God.

I can only assume that my loyal paladins saw this. They walked
past me, and fetched stones from the river and did likewise.

The pride that I had in that moment was not a pride in toughness
or an ability to fight. I did not even want the pride of catching the
kidnapper anymore. I was content in the pride of having fellow men
who had the humility to depend on a God who controlled us as he
willed.

Soon, there were columns of fire arcing to their altars as well.

When all had been accomplished, we put on our gear, and stood in a
circle.

I said, “Men, you have trusted your lives to God, to me, and to
the order. You have committed to fulfilling the mission. I have too.
My goal is no longer pride and success. Rather, I now want to focus
on doing what is right. Therefore, let us carry on, as planned. For
the remainder of this mission, I will commit choosing the most
cautious path, believing that my lesson is mine alone, and that God
will deliver the kidnapper into our hands, if it is his will. Do you
have any questions?”

The men calmly shook their heads.

“Sub Sergeant, I want to split up into groups, so that we could
each scan one side of the canyon. Do you have any recommendations?”

Dickerson said, “I had considered splitting up into pairs, but
it is getting dark and dangerous. It could be too easy for a team to
get lost in here.”

“Agreed. I believe that we should walk slowly, and call out
often, so that we can keep track of each other.”

My firing team partner said, “Sergeant, what about stealth?”

“Safety first. We can choose our path, but God has chosen our
direction. Ultimately, there is nothing that we can do to capture the
kidnapper. We must wait for God to hand him to us.”

He nodded.

“Unless there are any other suggestions, we should get move on.”

The others shook their heads.

Dickerson led on the west side. I led on the east. Due to the
amount of moon light, I was able to see fairly well in front of me,
for about ten feet. Anything beyond that was a mixture of grey and
black meaningless shapes. We walked slowly, testing each step, before
putting our full weight on it.

We pressed on for about ten more minutes. The terrain changed into
uneven hard ground. It was as if we had discovered a collection of
boulders. I put up my hand to tell my group to stop. Climbing the
boulders would have been easier than climbing across the big hole,
however, if we fell here, we might become wedged in a tight space.
The thought of amputating a leg just to free myself flashed across my
mind. I said, “Okay. I'm going to climb a few of them, and look
ahead. I'll let you know what I see.” I walked closer, and searched
for a way up. Suddenly, I heard a gasp. I listened. I heard uneven
forced breathing.

I cocked my rifle. The other group members did likewise, when they
heard me. The group on the other side of the creek heard it, and
noticed me crouching down and stepping slowly. I stepped closer to
the source of the sound. I was not sure if I was approaching a
cornered animal or not.

I arrived at the source of the sound. It was a person, lying on
the ground. He was wounded. I could not recognize the face, since the
moon shone from behind him. I trained my weapon on him, and my group
came forward and did likewise. My eyes scanned the area, and saw
nothing particularly out of the ordinary.

I said, “Who are you?”

“Benton Masterson. Please. You have to help me. I think...my leg
is broken. Help. Please.”

“Dickerson! Over here.” The name never sounded familiar in the
least, but I had difficulty trusting him.

Dickerson led his team carefully across the stream.

“Hands up where we can see them.”

He was quick to comply.

One of my group members stepped forward to cuff the man's hands
behind his back. He winced and screamed in agony.

I said, “Okay, Benton Masterson. Why are you here?”

He refused to answer. He kept moaning and breathing heavily.

When he was secured, that group member pulled out a flashlight and
shone it the man's face. He said, “He looks like the kidnapper.”

“I agree.”

I suspected that he was holding back on us, even in his
excruciating pain. As a sign of good will, I laid my hand on him, and
healed his leg, which appeared very malformed.

He breathed a little more easily. “Please. More. Please.”

“No. You tell us what we want to know. That'll
be enough for you. You can walk, and that's all you need, Benton
Masterson.” My group members heaved him onto his feet.

“I'm just an ordinary camper.” He winced in the pain, and
leaned on his good leg.

“A camper named, Benton Masterson. Where is all your
gear, Benton Masterson?” Even until the bitter end,
villains always seemed to lie. Listening to them try to pitifully lie
their way out of their predicament amused me.

“I got lost, when I came down that ramp back there. My gear is
at my camp site.”

He noticed my emphasis, and looked at me. He nodded. We patted
each other on the back.

As the guys started back, I said, “Whoa. Where are you going?!”
They looked at me, and I said, “We have to keep going.” I paused,
and said, “Just kidding. Let's go.”

We arrived at the top of the ramp at the perfect time. In the
distance, we saw headlights coming towards us, but not directly at
us. Apparently, the canyon had switched back. So, much of our travel
had brought us to near where we entered the canyon. The vehicle might
have been about a half mile away. We brought out our flashlights and
waved them. The vehicle turned towards us. I felt such a relief. It
was like we were being rescued.

The guys cheered. The guys who held our captive shook him a
little.

The captive muttered something in a foreign language.

I think that he swore at us, and maybe even pronounced a curse on
us. I didn't care.

As the vehicle came closer, we could see that it was the truck. We
climbed into the back. The truck rolled over lumpy ground, including
shrub brush and rocks, rattling us back and forth. We sang a song of
victory. The ride was uncomfortable, but I was so glad to get off of
my feet, that I felt like I was getting a luxurious limo ride. The
captive screamed, because his leg was not fully healed.

At the operating base, we unloaded our captive. Some other
paladins took him from there, to be fully healed by the clerics, and
to be processed.

Captain Morley approached me. “Congratulations, Smith. You found
him. I was pretty worried about you. We've sent the others out
looking for you. They should be back in another twenty minutes. How
did you find him.”

“We found him in the canyon. We just followed the canyon. He was
injured, so we were able to find him in plain site. It was dark, but
still.”

“Your first mission as sergeant, and you bring home the trophy.
You have a very promising future. Congratulations, Smith.” He held
his hand out to shake mine.

I held my hand out, but before I grabbed his, I said, “It was a
group effort. They kept me grounded, and God just handed him to us.
I'll shake it on behalf of the guys. It's their loyalty and hard work
that helped us push on.”

He nodded.

I gripped firmly, and shook.

[

We climbed down out of the back of the truck. I put on my shades
to protect myself from the blinding reflection off of the desert
plain.

In the midst of it, was the deep canyon that we had been briefed
about before leaving. The canyon snaked left and right in curves off
to the horizon. From my position, it seemed like a tattoo or a scar
on the plain.

The canyon mouth opened towards us just a hundred metres away. The
gentle slope seemed like an invitation to adventurers. The well worn
path testified to the canyon's accessibility to day hikers.

I stretched my arms back and up. I smiled.

The canyon walls towered above us, as if they were guarding us and
preventing our escape. Perhaps the prisoner came here, to collude
with the canyon and plead for asylum.

As we descended into the canyon, I got distracted by the
sedimentary layers of the walls. On the left, the walls went straight
up, with no hand and foot holds. Therefore, that wall reminded me of
large long bars that prevented all forms of escape. I welcomed them,
taking comfort in the earth poetically helping our noble cause. On
the right, the desert rains had eroded the wall over the years into a
gentle slope of layers. Therefore, that wall reminded me of the
stands of a coliseum, where an audience could gather to mock
adventurers who naively passed on towards danger. I was a paladin,
and I chose boldness and courage for the journey ahead.

After about 15 minutes of walking, we found a creek that flowed
along the length of the canyon floor. The mouth of the creek
connected to a deep pool, which was partially under the left wall. It
either drained through the bottom or at the side.

As we rounded the first major bend in the canyon, a private
marching in the first position of the section signalled possible
danger. I signalled to the rest of the section to stop, kneel, and
prepare to fire. We cocked our weapons, and the sounds echoed along
the canyon, betraying our presense.

He looked for a few moments more, then aimed his rifle ahead, and
then signalled for us to approach. I gestured for us to get up, and
jog over.

I said, “What have we got?” I saw two large rocks, which were
pure stone, like granite, and they extended to above the canyon
walls. Almost like sentries guarding a narrow passage in the canyon.
The creek sneaked underneath the rock on the left.

He said, “The fugitive was probably intelligent enough to not
hide so closely to the mouth of the canyon, but...”

“Right.” As paladins, we did not take chances. I brought the
group in together, and ordered them to sneak up, one a time, finding
cover along the way.

Sub Sergeant Dickerson went first. According to our training, he
intended to take a midway point, so that he could direct the privates
and corporals as new information came up.

In these situations, I had the unpleasant task of sending the
least experienced privates in first. We did this in the case of an
ambush. He was trained enough that he should survive, but it was
still unfortunate.